


longing for half ourselves

by moveablehistory



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angel Blood, Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Happy Ending, Homicide, Werewolf Attacks, Werewolves, actually a little dreamy, auditory hallucinations, people trying to be demons, that glowy moment, what with the echoing heartbeats and all, you know the one I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moveablehistory/pseuds/moveablehistory
Summary: Set between 2x19 and 2x20. Clary begins hearing things while a mundane killer is framing werewolves.





	longing for half ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to mattdaddorkio, who kindly beta'd a fic for a total stranger - who then got pretty sick for a long while :( :( - I'm sorry, this is long overdue, and any errors are mine!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy my first fic in a long, long time, and thanks. <3

Ever since the courtyard, since that moment when it felt as if they were swapping pieces of their souls, since that endless golden light, Clary’s been hearing a heartbeat. It’s not like tinnitus, a side effect from all those concussions. It’s more like the whole Institute has a heartbeat, and that’s what she hears. She can feel it as she walks, the slight vibration of it. It’s a heartbeat she hears throughout her own soul and it’s weirdly jarring; it doesn’t match her own and it’s as if her body is confused. She’s been distracted, ever since that golden moment in the courtyard.

The look of shock on his face when they broke apart spoke volumes. It would have shattered her heart, if she hadn’t felt exactly what he had felt - if she didn’t know that same gut-twist of confusion. 

It’s still weird to think about; her mind skittering away from it all.

Skittering away from Jace.

 

//

The heartbeat was echoing through the halls outside the briefing room, but Clary was still pretty sure it was all just in her head. _If this doesn’t go away by tomorrow night, I’m going to the infirmary. I just need an_ iratze _or something_ she thought. Somehow, the thought wasn’t very comforting. She tried not to walk in the rhythm of that endless echo, but it was harder than it seemed. 

She tripped over her own feet, making a very undignified entrance to the meeting in progress.

“Sorry, sorry,” Clary grimaced slightly, and made her way to the briefing table.

“As I was saying,” Alec continued, “Last night marks the second night in a row that we’ve seen a mundane killed, then dumped in a heavily populated area. It looked like it could have been a werewolf attack. Luke and the Pack have scouted both murder sites, and confirmed there is no scent of wolf, just a mundane male. They’ve tracked the scent back to a building about two blocks from the Hunter’s Moon, so it’s possible that the mundane may have, somehow, seen or heard something, despite our glamours and wards.“

A movement to her right caught her attention, and she looked, paused as the rest of the world faded away. The slight motion of a hand tapping the table, in the beat of the heart that resounded through her mind, swallowed her up until that was the only thing she saw. She swayed slightly, and the tapping stopped immediately. 

“Clary,” Alec’s voice was low, but she felt it echo. “Clary, you with us?”

“Sorry, Alec. Guess I just drifted off there. Late night. You were saying?” She straightened her shoulders, and turned back to the table.

“We’re still trying to identify exactly who is behind this, and then the Clave will decide if this is a matter for us Shadowhunters, or if we should leave this to the mundane police. Nobody wants a third death, so Luke has requested our assistance in the investigation. Jace, Izzy, you two organize additional surveillance in a ten block radius of the known major werewolf hangouts; include the Jade Wolf, too. We don’t want anybody in the New York pack implicated in the mundane police investigation.”

Alec sighed, his arms crossed in front of him. “Everybody, dismissed. Except you, Clary, I need to see you in my office. We’ll catch up with Jace and Izzy later.”

Clary nodded at Alec and paused, listening to that incessant beat in her mind. It was like what she thought an earthquake would sound like.

The heartbeat. Jace’s tapping. Clary snapped her eyes up and turned, catching Jace’s attention, he paused and looked at her carefully.

“Clary? You OK? You seem distracted.”

“No more than you, Jace. What’s with the tapping? Song stuck in your head?”

“Ha,” Jace grinned. “Nah, nothing. Think I just hit my head a few too many times. Keep hearing this thumping noise. Ever since the — ever since the bridge. I’ll get it checked out, but don’t worry, probably nothing an _iratze_ can’t handle.”

Clary reached out, almost as if she was going to touch him. She stopped, and drew back; didn’t move for a split second before shaking her head. “After,” she whispered, “We have to talk.”

Jace nodded curtly, then called out over his shoulder, “Izzy? You good to go?”

“Halfway out the door!” Izzy yelled from down the hall. “Get a move on, loverboy!”

“Later,” Jace promised before following Izzy out the door.

“Clary, I do need to have a word,” Alec stuck his head out from around the corner leading to his office. 

Clary sighed and turned to face him. “Sure, Alec, what’s going on?”

A whisper rippled at the other side of the ops centre; a small group of Shadowhunters had been watching her and went silent.

“Let’s go to my office,” he sighed.

 

//

 

“Izzy, I gotta say that I really, really don’t want to talk about it.” Jace slipped through the crowded sidewalk, neatly sidestepping the double stroller and a tour group of seniors.

“About what?” Izzy swiped an apple from a fruit cart, and bit into it, skipping up on a handrail.

“You know. About what happened back at the Institute. With Clary.”

“If you say so, Jace.”

Jace sped up, moving fast as he ducked through traffic, making quick work of the miles of perimeter. “I do say so. I don’t even know what that was. It was like everything went all - around. Us. And… “

He slowed a bit, and Izzy nearly ran into him. “And until I know what that was, I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Got it. No talking about it.”

“Good. Perfect. Thanks, Izzy. Knew I could count on you.”

 

//

 

“Clary, you’ve got to know that I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

Clary sighed deep, and threw herself into one of the chairs across from Alec’s desk. “I know. I just - I don’t know what happened in the courtyard, not really. And seriously. You can’t hear that heartbeat? It’s everywhere.”

Alec grimaced. “No, I don’t hear it, but I think I know what it is.” He opened one of his desk drawers, and drew out a thin, vellum manuscript; its edges worn and the colours on it faded. He carefully laid it out in front of her and pointed at an inscription beneath a pair of angels on the cover. “You’re decent with your ancient Greek philosophy, right?”

“…Right?”

“So you know Plato’s classic story, the one about love? How soulmates are two halves of one whole, so on and so forth. Will never feel complete until they are together and one? Or something like that?”

Clary cocked a brow at Alec. “You know, I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Ha-ha,” Alec grinned wryly, and laid out the manuscript on the wide desk. The pages rustled and fell open, showing a gilded, medieval illumination of a man and a woman, faintly winged and resplendent. They were in each other’s arms, forming a wide circle, light emanating from the space between them. Clary gasped at the artistry of it, at the sheer time and effort that must have gone into the making of it.

At how _familiar_ it looked.

She reached out, and turned the manuscript towards her; moving slow with reverence. 

“Is this an actual illuminated manuscript?” She stared in wonder. “I never thought I’d see something like this.”

“Nobody’s seen something like this. Magnus has had it for centuries, and it- uh, well. It _spoke_ to him the last night. When we read it, we knew why. It describes an apocryphal pair of Shadowhunters; the first two Shadowhunters that followed Jonathan Shadowhunter, according to legend.”

Clary sat back in her chair. “I remember what Magnus told us, about the connection the first Shadowhunters had with Raziel. But this one, I mean, I know I’m new, but I figured I’d learn the big stories.”

“Nobody knows this story, Clary.” Alec sighed deep. “It’s been kept secret because it’s dangerous. How’s your Latin?”

“What’s so dangerous about an old story? Wait-“ Clary paused. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Latin’s not that great, though.”

“Probably a good thing. I’ll summarize. Those two, the first two? They were imbued with the power of the Angel directly, making them incredibly powerful, more than any other Shadowhunter that came after them. They drew the first runes, they could use them without steles, a lot like-“

“Like me and Jace. Are you saying that-“

“Not saying anything. Just telling you a story. Want to know how the story ends?”

“Not really. Let me guess, they lived long happy lives, raised a brood of fat and happy children, and died in their sleep? What does this have to do with Plato?”

“Uh, kind of? They fell in love. Felt the drumbeats of their hearts in sync, they fought courageously in battle, and were glorious in their duty. All that great stuff. At least, until they were betrayed.” Alec leaned forward, and gently pointed at the shadow behind the golden woman in the illustration. “Her name was Faida. The shadow was the Greater Demon Lodhrasog. He wormed his way into her heart, feeding her lies. She grew to believe that she was being betrayed by her lover, Ari, that he was using his angelic powers for corruption and greed.”

Clary shook her head. “How could she believe that? I mean, she must have known she was being influenced. Didn’t they have wards or runes for that?”

“Not then, no. It was so early during Shadowhunter history; remember, they were just about the first. The drumbeat between them broke; Faida ended up reporting her suspicions about Ari to the others, who decided in council to execute him, despite his pleas of innocence. After his death, Faida realized she had been manipulated, and went into a self-imposed exile. No one knows what happened to her.” Alec took the vellum and folded it closed, putting it back in his desk drawer. “They were created as two halves; as partners. The demon used the strength of their bond and broke it, ruining their lives and setting back Shadowhunters for a millennia. No one has been able to do what they did.”

“Until now,” Clary finished. “The drumbeat I hear. That didn’t surprise you one bit, did it?”

“No. I wasn’t surprised at all. I think that whatever Valentine did to you and Jace - using angel blood on you both; I think he didn’t understand what he was creating, but I don’t know what this means for you. I mean, it’s just a legend.”

“All the legends are true,” Clary echoed, her mind spinning back in time to when she met Jace, back to that moment when he told her the truth, and everything in the world tilted on its axis.

“Guess so. Now, want to tell me what really happened out there in the courtyard?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Clary sighed, “but maybe you ought to know.”

 

//

 

Jace and Izzy stood at the bar in the Hunter’s Moon, deep in conversation with Maia. Clary could barely stand to look at Jace, the light around him seemed amplified; almost painfully bright. Maybe she just needed some new sunglasses. She could still hear that endless thump of a different heart, though. It sounded loud, made the whole room seem cavernous. It made her shiver. Wordlessly, Jace handed her his jacket, and she slipped it on, revelling in his borrowed warmth.

Alec sidled up to the bar, and Maia handed them both hot coffee. “Sitrep?” Alec asked, and Izzy shook her head.

“Not a whole lot to report. We organized the patrols and surveillance; right now, it’s more a of a matter of watch and wait. Luke gave us a spare police radio, so we can listen from here in as well.” 

“OK. We’re pretty much at the centre of the where the killings happened, so let’s stay here, and monitor the channels. Maia? Do you have a room we can use?”

“Sure.” She grabbed a key from a shelf behind the counter. “We’ve got rooms upstairs we use for guests from out of town. Have at it.” She handed the key to Alec.

“Thanks. Guys? Let’s set up a command room.” Alec paused and looked at Clary. “Jace, can you help Clary check out the roof, make sure it’s secure?”

Jace didn’t look at her, and Clary could feel it like a loss. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

 

//

 

“Roof looks clear,” Jace said as soon as he opened the door, but Clary cocked her head at him and slid past, eyeing the empty space.

“Jace-“

“We’re in the middle of something, Clary.” Jace stepped out onto the roof, and walked forward up to the edge. He looked over and surveyed the pedestrians below.

“Yes. We definitely are,” She agreed. “Just not what you think.”

Jace turned and finally faced her. “What are you talking about? The spree of killings?”

“No.” She sighed, and moved to his side. She looked out at the streets below, watching people living their lives, being normal. “I’m talking about the two Shadowhunters that Jonathan Shadowhunter first made, both created in angel blood.” She looked over at Jace, the surprise written obviously across his face.

“Clary, that was like a millennia ago, and what does that have to do with anything?”

She wrapped his jacket around her tighter, tracing the edges of the sleeves with the tip of her finger. She could feel the wear on the leather, how the heartbeat echoed across it.

“Alec showed me a manuscript,” she started. “A very old one. Illuminated, actually. Shows the two of them, um, glowing.”

“Glowing?” Jace scoffed, but wouldn’t look at her. “You sure this isn’t a fairy tale?”

“Definitely not a fairy tale. She ended up being manipulated by a demon into betraying him.”

“You know, most fairy tales end up with tragic endings. You still sure?”

“They could create runes, Jace. Both of them. They could use them without steles, just like-“

“Just like us. What are you saying?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. It’s just - I told Alec about what happened. In the courtyard. Not everything, not really, but enough. He seems to think that somehow, we - you and I - we have the same power as those two first Shadowhunters, and somehow we’re now bound, I guess, like this. Like we each had half the portion of Ithuriel’s blood, and we each have half of a whole soul.”

Jace looked skeptical. “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

“Of course I do! It’s just, the heartbeat. In the story-“

“What heartbeat?” Suddenly, Jace looked a little less skeptical.

“They could hear the heart of the Angel. It was in their blood. Apparently, it nearly drove them mad until they realized that they could both hear it, and that when they, um, were close? That heartbeat lessened, enough to make it bearable. It was the price of their gift.”

Clary turned to face him, and stepped just a little closer. “Do you think that I somehow activated that? In us? For them, the closer they were, the easier it was to use their angelic gifts. Do you think-?”

Jace pulled back. “I don’t know what to think. You’re sure about this?”

Clary shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure about anything. The only thing I know is that right now, this is the only answer I’ve got.”

She had the curious feeling that if she could just touch Jace, just for a moment, then the beat would go away. She reached for his hand, but he flinched.

“Clary, I-“

“Guys,” Alec called from the roof’s door. “We’ve got a situation.”

 

//

 

“Police scanner reports a break and enter about three blocks north-“

“-Opposite side from the closest murder site. You think the killer is centered around here?” Izzy speculated as they all ran towards the rundown motel where the call was reported.

“I’m betting on it,” Alec called back. He already had his bow drawn. Jace didn’t hesitate as he kicked the door down, and they all stepped through the threshold.

The space was dark. To the right was a series of stairs leading down, and there was clearly shattered glass on the floor. The window was jagged with broken glass, and a smear of blood dripped down the dirty wall.

“Well - definitely this way.” Alec took point, moving towards the stairs, and heading down. Clary took the rear, covering and watching carefully as she’d been trained. The heartbeat in her mind was slow, steady, and ever-present. She shook her head, trying to get it to slow down, or quiet, and it was working. If Jace didn’t believe her, or if the story wasn’t true, then the only other possibility was that -

A bespelled vine shot at her, piercing cleanly through the muscle of her upper arm. She felt a hot slash at her back and she couldn’t help screaming. Jace spun at her cry, eyes focused on her. He leapt, not paying attention to anything around him. Clary fought the vines attacking her, and shifted slightly, drawing back to gather power for a punch, and hit Jace cleanly, breaking his nose with a sick crunch. She stopped, whirled as soon as she felt the hit, and tripped over one of the vines, taking Jace down with her. She caught of glimpse of Isabelle’s dropped jaw, and couldn’t help her grimace. A runed arrow flew overhead, and the single demon vaporized into red ash, it’s snapping jaws inches from her head.

The vines disintegrated, and Alec gave them both a hand up, scrawling an _iratze_ on Jace to take care of the fractured nose. He couldn’t even look at them, and huffed with surprised disappointment. 

“I’m not gonna ask. But that can not happen again.” He turned to the stairs and paused. “I’ll let you two take care of the mess.”

Wordlessly, Clary pulled a wad of clean tissues from a side pocket, and handed them to Jace. He took them, wiped blood from his jacket, and glared.

 

//

 

They made it back to the command room at Hunter’s Moon without incident, but Jace couldn’t hold his silence for long.

“What were you thinking?” His voice had a dull edge to it. They’d stepped into the room, the only ones there. Clary shrugged helplessly, and turned away from him, looking out the single dirty, small window. She could see people running in the distance, the sound coming closer. She had to answer Jace somehow.

“I wasn’t. I was just fighting. The way we always do. I just-“

Clary cut off, frustrated at the crazy story that she couldn’t get out of her mind. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, did you feel what I felt? In the courtyard? Did any of it make sense to you at all? And what about the story, about the two-”

She wrapped her arms around herself, and looked away. “I’m sorry, Jace. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened.” 

Jace breathed deep, then took a step forwards.

“I know,” he whispered. “Look, I don’t know what that story’s about. I don’t know if I can even begin to try to explain what happened when we tried to track Jonathan. What I do know is that Valentine’s out there, and as much as we need to talk about this, we’ve got more important things to worry about. I meant what I said, though. You’re not the only one afraid of losing something.” Jace smiled with a crooked mouth, and she couldn't meet his eyes. The golden light of that rune was still embedded in her mind, and when she looked at him, that’s all she saw. She was blinded by her own memory.

The Light. The blessing of the Angel. That’s what she saw, and it was more than her human heart could bear.

“Jace.” Her voice came out as if broken. She gathered up her bits of courage, and kept going. “Jace, I don’t know what happened out there, I really don’t. But I do know that if we don’t get it together, if we don’t get back to the way we were, we’re going to get killed.”

Jace flinched. “I’m not sure I can believe you.” He moved to leave, but paused at the window and turned towards her, just sightly. “I’m not sure I even have that much of a soul left.”

 

//

The distant echo of footsteps rang louder, and Jace looked over Clary’s shoulder, and out the window.

“It’s Alec,” he breathed hard, and grabbed his blade. “I saw Simon beside him.”

Clary gritted her teeth, found her own weapon, and followed Jace down the narrow stairs. They burst out into the alley, just in time for Jace to crash into Simon headlong.

“Whoa, whoa, I was definitely here first.” Simon dusted himself off, and eyeballed Jace without a shred of self-consciousness.

“Yeah, OK, whatever, Simon. Alec, what’s going on?”

“No time,” Alec panted hard. “Izzy’s meeting me here with more arrows and blades. Bar, three blocks north. Basement. Go!”

Jace looked at Alec, nodded, and grabbed Clary’s hand before running as fast as he could.

 

//

 

They found the abandoned bar quickly enough, the fresh, broken glass of a side door enough evidence to tell them someone was inside. Jace used the butt of the blade to knock out the rest of the jagged glass, then stepped through. He reached back, and helped Clary step through the door before readying his weapons.

Before them was an elderly woman in a peach, floral print dress, a tea service set in front of her.

“Welcome!” Her voice was pleasant and melodic, and Jace immediately stiffened. Clary’s attention flickered to the set of his jaw, and she tensed. The woman turned her head to face them, and it was at an impossible angle. 

Clary felt sick to her stomach. The demon chuckled and stretched its borrowed body’s face into a contorted smile. “Clarissa Morgenstern. What an unexpected pleasure. I thought I’d see you here, perhaps. And Jace Herondale. Of course. May I offer you both a seat?”

Clary looked at Jace out of the corner of his eye, and watched him nod, very slightly. She took the cue, and sat at the proffered chair, perching at the very edge of the overstuffed cushion. Jace did the same, both ready to spring up at the slightest provocation. 

The demon moved as if it had never possessed a human body before. It bent slightly in an attempt at a bow, then also sat. It gently lifted the silver teapot in front if it, pouring carefully into two thimble-sized teacups. The liquid looked black, thick, and moved as if still alive.

“Please,” the demon extended a hand with courtesy. “Enjoy.”

“Do you seriously think we’re going to fall for that?” Clary scoffed, and couldn’t help the eye roll. 

“Of course not,” the demon threw it’s head back in the imitation of a laugh. “But it was certainly effective.”

Jace quirked an eye at that. “Effective? How?”

Clary felt the edge of a demon blade at the back of her neck, and couldn’t help her groan.

“At distracting you, of course.” The greater demon twitted at her.

“Are you kidding me?” Jace winked at Clary, and with a twist he swung around, knocking the blade off balance. The lesser demon behind him recoiled, then sprang back, shifting to strike hard but missed; Jace was just too fast. He lashed out, hard, shoving the demon behind him back, and against the window. The distraction was enough for Clary to leap up and turn, shoving the second demon away from her as hard as she could. 

“Jace!” Clary cried, and reached out; she visualized the Sun rune on her hand. Jace shifted focus, and immediately moved towards her. He pressed his palm against hers and looked her in the eyes directly.

The rune ignited.

Sunlight shot from her hand, and it was bright enough to nearly blind them both. Jace’s eyes shone golden, and he quickly pulled her against him, shielding her as she lifted her arm and pointed, turning the two lesser demons to ash. Without hesitation, she turned and pointed her arm towards the greater demon inhabiting the body of the tiny elderly woman. 

The demon cackled, just slightly. “You hear the drumbeat, do you not? Do you follow it, Clarissa Morgenstern? Follow it to war?” The demon twisted its body into a parody of something between a curtsey and salute. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Clary spat, and opened her her fist. The endless light filled the entire room, so bright Clary could hardly see. Jace’s hold on her tightened and she felt him bury his face in her hair. 

The world howled, then everything stopped. The light faded and Clary opened her eyes. Jace let go of her, slowly, and stepped back. There was nothing in the room but the fast-fading piles of ash. Clary wiped her hands on her jeans, then exhaled, slowly. 

Jace hadn’t moved. She looked over at him, casting her gaze up his body, checking for injuries. Her eyes searched his in question, but he only shook his head.

“Later,” he whispered. Clary paused, but finally nodded. Their work wasn’t done yet - there was still a human killer here, somewhere in this building. They sprinted towards the stairs, dropping down quickly to the basement. As Clary stepped on the centre stair the heavy framed door behind them swung shut, dropping a brace across the door. Jace stopped and looked down, calling out a warning to Clary, but all she could see was the circle drawn on the floor in front of her. She skittered to a stop, and Jace took a half second to pause before shifting focus, and launching himself between Clary and the human being on fire in the middle of the circle.

“Face me, demon!” Jace rocked forward into a ready stance, and the man on fire laughed, his skin sizzling as he spoke.

“I’m not a demon, not at all. But I will be.” He straightened up and stood, flames licking at his eyes. “They promised me,” he whispered, gestured to the circle he was in; a quick feint before he stretched out impossibly long, and wrapped his warped hands around Jace’s throat. The fire leapt to Jace, and Clary could hear him scream.

She didn’t have time to think. Golden light and warmth started at the tips of her toes, and spread up through her body. She gave in to it, and felt the swing of the blade into burning flesh as she cleaved through the demonic form, the fire in her mind incinerating any thought other than Jace. The summoning circle that the killer made was broken, pouring liquid flame on to the dark basement floor. She looked around fast, making sure there was nothing else that could surprise her. She could hear Alec and Izzy pounding on the door, the thick brace holding it shut. There was no time.

Jace was unconscious and bleeding, and there was man on fire in front of her. She didn’t stop to think. Clary spun and reacted, kicking the killer back. He lost his balance, and fell across the broken circle, but instead of stopping at the floor, he fell through and kept going. She could hear his scream as he fell, and the roar of flame as it shot up from beneath the earth, turning the whole room into an inferno. Clary launched towards Jace, and threw herself over him as a shield, landing hard, and knocking Jace against the corner of the room. She covered him as much as she could, and held on tight, knowing in her bones that this is how she would die, and if it meant that Jace would live, then this would all be worth it. 

The fire was everywhere, all around her, and the only thing she could comprehend was her heart, and the beat in her mind. 

She could hear Jace as if he was very far away. There was the storm in his voice, the overpowering edges of it. She squeezed her eyes shut and hung on as the fire raged around her. She could feel Jace frantically drawing _iratze_ after _irazte_ on her as she screamed, as the scent of her own burning skin and hair filled her mind.

Then silence. She watched numbly as Alec and Izzy broke into the room, and banished the summoning circle, then rushed to her and Jace. Izzy knelt down, and looked her in the eyes, but Clary’s world was going grey and narrow. She could feel the cold burn of the runes on her skin, and she knew she was about to pass out. Jace held her tight as she slumped forward; there was an endless heartbeat, and she could hear where it came from now, cradled against Jace’s chest.

“Everything’s going to be OK,” Jace whispered as he picked her up gently, her skin already healing. “I got you.”

 

//

 

“First, I’d like to congratulate everyone on a job well done. Even though we lost two mundanes, we successfully prevented the killer from taking another life. Luke and the Pack have confirmed that the scent found on the killer is the same as at the crime scenes, and with their help, we’ll be able to spin it to local law enforcement as a mundane kill spree ending with the killer’s death. Good work.”

Alec sounded proud, but Clary wasn’t listening to any of this. Her healed skin was still a little sore and it would take a while before her hair was back to normal, but it didn’t matter. It’s true, she thought to herself. The ache is her chest lessened, just a little, as she watched Jace tap his fingertips against the briefing room table; the slight and steady motion echoing the heartbeat in her mind. As she watched, suddenly, he became all she could see. She knew Alec was congratulating everyone on the mission, but she didn’t hear any of it.

Clary stepped towards Jace, into arms she knew would wrap around her. She kissed him, hard, and gave up what was left of the wall around her heart, her mind. He kissed her back with a dread sense of inevitability, one hand at her jaw, tracing his thumb across her cheek. She wrapped one hand around the back of his head, to pull him closer, and snaked the other up his chest to rest her hand over his heart.

She could feel him, feel his heartbeat. It was frantic and racing hard; she pulled back a little, breaking off their kiss. She could feel Jace breathing heavy, and she could still feel his heart pounding under her hand. She leaned towards him, and kissed him again gently, just a brush of lips. She could feel the beat of him slowing down, just a little, and then-

Then their hearts beat together. 

Clary gasped and looked up, catching Jace’s eyes. The rhythm in her mind slowed, held steady, until all she could hear or see or feel was the endless echoing sound. What she felt was as if her soul was spinning. She felt as if the ground beneath her wasn’t earth, it wasn’t what was holding her down to this world anymore. She knew her soul was being held, close and tight, right beside his heart. 

“Guys? Maybe get a room?” Alec’s voice felt distant, like he was in some familiar and far off place. But Jace? Jace was right here.

She felt like she was the flower and he was the sun, like he was magnetic north and she was the compass needle.

Jace smiled down at her when she opened her eyes.

“Now I believe you,” he said.


End file.
